Shieldmaiden of the Mark
by GreyLadyBast
Summary: Eowyn's story, from birth to her introduction in TTT. It will be long, so please review. Critism welcome, as I want to make it as close to canon as possible. Main story follows A/N and introduction.
1. Author's Note, Introduction and Disclaim...

It occurred to me the other day, as I sat down to write yet another "female OC, minor character perspective on LOTR" story, that I was wasting my time. Yes, I have a hopeless fixation on "Lower Decks" style stories (for those who don't watch Star Trek: TNG, "Lower Decks" is the episode shot entirely from some junior officers' POV. Sort of a "Mary Sue done right" kind of thing.) No, I can't write male perspective for love nor money, as a rule, so all my original characters are female. And yes, I'm aware how overused and pathetic both are, no matter how good the writing is. But, I am who and what I am, so I write what I know.  
  
That said, as I mentioned, it occurred to me that I am wasting my time with this. Why create new characters when there is so much of the canon characters' lives left untold? So, as GoldenWolf with "The Heir" (an incredible author, read her work if you have not yet done so), I present for your consideration the tale of the life of Eowyn, Lady of the Shield- Arm, White Lady of Rohan. May my endeavor do justice to this most incredible of women!  
  
  
  
By the way, I WANT REVIEWS! I want good reviews, bad reviews, flames, fawning, any and all types of reviews. I want to know where my facts are incorrect, where my grammar is bad, how my characterization is, constructive criticism, swearing, helpful hints, reassurance, all of it! I want to know what you love, what you hate, what I've screwed up on, what I'm spot-on with. I cannot improve as a writer without input, so I want the input, good, bad and indifferent. I furthermore promise, if you review my work, I will track down, read and review yours in return, if you ask me to. Be honest, be frank, and above all, BE REVIEWING!!!! This goes for anything I've written, but this work especially. Eowyn deserves the best I can give, and I must know if I am accomplishing that goal. My most heartfelt thanks in advance.  
  
GreyLadyBast, 2002  
  
  
  
P.S. I will not interrupt the flow of this story with continued disclaimers. All standard disclaimers, credit, and praise are hereby awarded to the appropriate parties, first, foremost and especially the incomparable J.R.R. Tolkien, without whom this work, and my life-long love affair with both high fantasy and kick-ass women, would not be possible. Tolkien is the acknowledged Father of Modern Fantasy. Praise him with Great Praise! 


	2. Unto Thee A Daughter is Born

Unto Thee A Daughter is Born  
  
  
  
Theodwyn lay exhausted in the bed. The labor was long and hard, but not beyond the strength of the sister of the King. Rohirrim women were steadfast, and this was not her first child. The Lady smiled as the midwife lay her second-born in her arms. Her husband Eomund, Marshal of the Mark, beamed down at his wife and new-born daughter. 'Twas the custom of the Rohirrim for the father to be present at the birth, to share and appreciate just what his woman went through to bring forth his children. Just as women were expected to share men's trials in war as shieldmaidens, so men were expected to share women's torment in childbed. It was the way of the Rohirrim, and it was good.  
  
The babe let out a lusty squawk, already full of life even minutes old. Her tiny mouth searched relentlessly for her mother's breast. She knew what she wanted from the first, and worked hard to achieve her goals. It was a trait that would stay with her throughout her life, even in the darkest hour.  
  
Eomund laughed at his determined daughter. Theodwyn, though tired, smiled softly as she fed the hungry babe. "What shall we call her, my husband?" she asked.  
  
"We may call her Theolira. She is as strong-willed as her mother," he replied.  
  
"Nay," she countered. "We will keep custom, and name her for us both. The first syllable of the father's name and the second of the mother's…..Eowyn. Our daughter is Eowyn."  
  
Eomund's smile broadened, if that was possible. He kissed his wife gently. "Shall I have Eomer sent for? He has long been eager to meet his new baby. I daresay he will welcome a sister."  
  
The midwife, forgotten until now, began to protest. She was silenced with a look from Theodwyn. In all truth, the midwife should have known to keep her place, but she was fond of the King's sister, and inclined to overprotectiveness. Rather than cross wills with Theodwyn, however, the midwife gracefully retired, to announce the arrival of the newest Rohirrim to Theoden King, as was her duty.  
  
As the midwife left, a small boy came running into the birthing chamber. "Is it here? Is it born at last? What is it, a boy or a girl? Come, Father, tell me, do I have a brother or a sister?" the child demanded with all the patience of youth.  
  
His parents laughed. The boy glared at them, hands on his hips and arms akimbo in the posture his mother used when annoyed with him. "Don't laugh at me! Tell me! Is it a brother or a sister??" he demanded again, more insistently.  
  
"Tis a sister, young Eomer, a beautiful baby girl," his father replied.  
  
"A sister?" the child asked, eyes full of wonder as he inched closer to his mother and the new baby.  
  
His mother nodded. "A sister. Her name is Eowyn. Would you like to hold her?"  
  
Eomer said nothing for several moments. He had waited so long for this moment, now that it had arrived, he found he was afraid of how this sister may change his life. Still, this was the long-awaited new baby. Not to hold her seemed cowardly. He gulped, squared his small shoulders and nodded slowly.  
  
Eomund had to work hard not to laugh at his grave son. Theodwyn, more familiar with the minds of small children, gave Eomer's courage its full due. The child sat at her side, and she gently placed the babe in his waiting arms. "You must support her head thusly, Eomer," his mother instructed, demonstrating.  
  
Eomund looked on in apprehension. His son was so small, his daughter smaller still, he was not sure this course was wise. Theodwyn caught his eye, however, and nodded imperceptibly. Eomund swallowed his own fears and trusted his wife's judgment.  
  
Eomer stared at his baby for long moments. A slow smile spread across his face as he gazed at his sleeping sister. She was so tiny, so helpless, the boy vowed then and there to do whatever it took to protect this baby sister of his. Eomer loved her dearly from the moment he held her. "She's wrinkly," he commented.  
  
Both parents laughed. Theodwyn put a careful arm around her children, cuddling them both. She could not recall ever being happier, unless it be the day she married Eomund. She smiled up at her husband, radiant with joy. He also smiled, more content now with his small family than he had ever been or ever would be again. Life, with all its wonder, was open to this girl. Her parents and brother rejoiced in her.  
  
That was how Theoden King found the small family when at last he dared enter the birthing chamber. It was custom for the King to welcome each new Rohirrim personally, though not quite so soon after birth. Still, this was his favorite sister, dearer than dear, and Theoden felt it his due to see how she fared as soon as was seemly. The midwife did not approve, but who was she to override her King?  
  
"I see you are well, my sister," Theoden said by way of greeting. "Your daughter is well also?"  
  
"Very, my King. She sleeps," his sister replied, yawning.  
  
"My sister is the most beautifullest sister in Rohan, Uncle Theoden!" Eomer piped up.  
  
Theoden laughed. "That she is, young Eomer, that she is. But I see your mother is weary as well. I suggest we leave her now, let her rest."  
  
Eomer pouted. He wanted to keep holding his baby. She was so warm and cuddly in his arms, he was loath to give her up to anyone. Eomund, noticing the look on his son's face, spoke.  
  
"Since you are here, my King, perhaps we would do well to perform the Greeting now? We are all gathered, we have a witness in the midwife, there is no time like the present. Then my wife may rest without worry for as long as she wishes," he suggested.  
  
"For as long as Eowyn lets me, you mean," Theodwyn interjected.  
  
The menfolk laughed. Already Eowyn's headstrong ways endeared her to her family, while causing grief at the same time. That, too, was a pattern which would continue her throughout her life.  
  
Theoden glanced at Theodwyn. She nodded. Theoden placed his hand on Eowyn's tiny forehead, gently lest Eomer glare at him. Already, the King perceived the close and protective relationship of brother to sister. It reminded him much of his own feelings toward Theodwyn. He spoke the age- old words of Greeting.  
  
"Welcome, child of the Eorlingas*. Thy life graces our people, thy soul enriches our spirit. May thee know nothing but love, may thee grow in peace and prosperity, may thy gifts be cherished in fullness, to the benefit of all Rohan. Theodwyn, Eomund, thy people thank thee for this gift of life. Cherish it with all that thou art. Unto thee a daughter is born!"  
  
Formalities observed, the midwife descended on the family. King or no, Marshal of the Mark or no, a new mother needed rest, and the midwife was determined Theodwyn would get it. The men were ushered out, Eomer's protests shushed by his father. "You can come back and hold Eowyn when your mother wakes. For now, they both need rest. Come, my son, let me get you something to eat."  
  
Since all small boys think first with their stomachs, the offer had the intended effect. Eomer let himself be led away without further protest. He did spare a glance over his shoulder at his mother and new sister, already asleep. "I think I shall enjoy being a big brother," he informed his father gravely.  
  
"I am certain you will, Eomer, and I am just as certain you will excel in the position," Eomund replied. Theoden King merely smiled at his nephew, knowing exactly what the boy was talking about. He, too, was certain Eomer would be an excellent big brother to his exceptional little sister.  
  
  
  
*A/n—Eorlingas is the People of the Mark's name for themselves. Rohirrim is what they are called in Gondor. For simplicity's sake, I refer to them by the more familiar name of Rohirrim except where appropriate, as in the formal Greeting for newborn babies. 


	3. The First Tragedy Strikes

The First Tragedy Strikes  
  
  
  
The years passed. Eowyn grew from adorable babe to winsome child. Her intelligence and beauty charmed all who knew her, though her penchant for mischief caused much grief among her elders. She simply had an overriding curiosity, a need to discover everything about anything. She was always underfoot, forever getting into things, eternally in trouble. Eomer, while still devoted to his sister, began to find her tiresome. The four year age difference between the siblings made for strife between them. Eowyn wanted to tag along with the bigger children, and Eomer wanted his space and freedom. They fought often, as all brothers and sisters do. But no matter how viciously Eomer teased Eowyn, no matter how she annoyed him, he would allow no other to speak harsh words to his sister. Even their parents fell victim to his glares and lectures, when they dared to discipline Eowyn in his presence.  
  
Life was peaceful for the children, barring the usual spats. 'Twas not so among the adults. A Shadow grew out of the east. Orcs began to raid the horses of the Rohirrim. Eomund was often away from home doing battle with them. The children missed their father sorely. Theodwyn explained the situation to them as best she could. Eomer was accepting, but to Eowyn, no reason was good enough to take her father from her so often or for so long. She adored her father above all other men. The girl was irrevocably convinced Eomund was the strongest, bravest, handsomest man in all the Mark. Even Theoden King was not so grand as her father, nor Theodred the prince. Eomund was first in the eyes of his daughter.  
  
Life was grand for the young girl. She was adored by her kith and kin, nearly to the point of being spoilt. Fortunately, her brother and mother kept her in line without dampening her spirit. All the world was there to be explored. Eowyn thought the good times would go on forever. She was wrong.  
  
Eowyn's seventh birthday was near when tragedy struck. News of an Orc raid reached Eomund. He made ready to ride forth and vanquish the foul creatures. He kissed his wife and son farewell, but when it was Eowyn's turn, she clung to him and wept. She did not want her father to go. She wanted him to stay with her and celebrate her birthday. The girl was inconsolable as Eomund prepared to ride.  
  
"Daddy, I don't want you to go!! Please stay! Please?" she begged, batting her eyes up at her father.  
  
Eomund smiled down at his daughter. "I would if I could, Filly, but I have a duty to perform. We cannot allow the foul Orcs to steal and slay our horses with impunity. They must be punished and as chief Marshal of the Mark, it is my duty to do so."  
  
Eowyn nodded sadly. She did not truly understand. She knew the horses of the Rohirrim were precious, and she loved them as dearly as all her kin, she just didn't see why it must be HER daddy to do this thing. She watched as Eomund rode forth with his small band of horsemen. Tears slid unhindered down her face.  
  
"Do not be sad, sister," Eomer consoled. "Father rides to honor, and will return home triumphant as always. Will that not make a grand birthday present for you?" Eomer's faith in his father was unshakeable. Theodwyn smiled down at her children, and hid her own fears for her husband's safety.  
  
Many days later, Eomer's faith was proven false. The remains of the war party returned, wounded and disheartened. On pallets they bore the bodies of their dead, Eomund among them. Theodwyn fell down wailing upon body of her husband. Eomer stood in shock, quiet and trembling. Eowyn, too young to truly understand, bent down near her father's pale face. "Daddy?" she asked gently. "Daddy, wake up!" she commanded. When he did not respond, the child began to shake her father's shoulder, screaming "Daddy, wake up! You must wake up!! Wake up now, Daddy! Wake up! Now!!" Theodred gently removed his little cousin from the body of her father, and bore her away. Eowyn screamed and begged to return to her father, but Theodred did not allow it. He took both children back to his own dwelling, to try to explain what had happened. That was the last Eowyn ever saw of her father.  
  
Theoden King took charge of his sister and the war party, giving orders for burial of the dead and tending of the wounded. Theodwyn's great grief worried him, as did the reaction of Eowyn. Dark times were upon the Mark. He only hoped he was strong enough to lead his people through them. 


	4. The Second Soon Follows

The Second Soon Follows  
  
The days following her father's death were difficult for Eowyn. No longer did she run thru the halls of Meduseld, nor ride free across the plains of the Mark on a horse far too big for her. She did not hide to escape her chores, nor wheedle treats from the kitchen girls, nor pester the lore-keepers for endless stories of elves and holbytlan. The heart had gone right out of the little girl.  
  
Theodwyn took to her bed immediately following the funeral. Eomer spent much of his time with his cousin Theodred, learning swordplay and other arts of war. He dealt with his father's death by throwing himself into plans of revenge. Eomer vowed to become the best swordsman of the Mark, and hunt all the Orcs to extinction. But Eowyn found herself alone most of the time. She took to spending her days in the stable with Eomund's horse Windrunner. The horse was pining without his master, the girl was pining without her father, and together they found solace of a sort.  
  
Still, she became drawn, pale and quiet, an unwelcome change from the lively and laughing girl of just a short time ago. As Theodwyn deteriorated, Eowyn felt less and less wanted. That was not truly the case, but the child did not know it. All she really knew was that Daddy had died and left her, and now Momma was sick in bed. Eowyn gradually became firmly convinced all the bad things to happen lately were her fault. She had no one to discuss these feelings with, not with Momma sick, Daddy dead, and Eomer spending all his time with Theodred. She withdrew into herself, spending more and more time pouring out her feelings to Windrunner. She thought the horse was the only one who cared about her anymore. She was wrong.  
  
The stable boys kept Theoden King informed of Eowyn's whereabouts. He instructed them to leave her be if that was what she wished, to comfort her if she wanted it, and to tell him if things became very bad for the girl. He worried about Eowyn, still more so about his sister and his people. So long as his niece took no hurt, he was content to let her grieve in her own way. He had other concerns to focus on.  
  
First among his worries was the coming winter. It looked to be harsh, probably with much illness, and he was not certain of his people's supplies. The Orc raids and the resulting deaths had taken much from the Rohirrim. Eowyn was not the only daughter grieving over a lost father. If this winter continued on as it looked to do, the tally of grieving daughters would rise.  
  
Eowyn thought nothing of all this. She was still a child, and lived very much in the moment as children do. Her world consisted of loneliness, grief for her father, worry for her mother, and Windrunner. The horse became her chief companion and best friend. For the first time, Eowyn truly felt the bond between Rohirrim and horse of the Mark. Caring for Windrunner, she began to understand just why the Orcs could not be allowed to harm their horses unpunished. She could find some small sense in her father's death, though the loss never did stop aching in the dark of the night. In Windrunner's stable, Eowyn began to heal.  
  
Her bond with the Windrunner carried her through that dark time. It gave her hope, and something to live for, just as Eomer's training gave him. Theodwyn was not so fortunate. She should have clung to her children, but her grief was overwhelming. When the winter ills came, Theodwyn was one of the first to succumb. The healers did everything they could, but to no avail. Eowyn's mother had simply lost the will to live. She had remained in her bed all the long months following her husband's death. Once the illness came upon her, death was swift.  
  
The entire Mark grieved at the loss of the king's sister. She had been beautiful, graceful and much beloved. Theoden himself was especially stricken. He began more and more to see darkness and defeat where once there had been hope. For the sake of his people, he never let anyone see the depths of his pain, but it was there, gnawing at his soul. By the time Grima arrived, many years later, the king was well prepped to believe the Wormtongue's poisonous whispering.  
  
Eomer also suffered greatly at the loss of his mother. As his sister was closest to Eomund, so Eomer cleaved to Theodwyn. Her death hit him especially hard. Worse still was that she died from grief and illness. The boy felt abandoned by his mother, unloved and unworthy. Both children did. It was many long years before Eomer regained his confidence enough to move on. Eowyn never truly did, for as daughter she had assisted in the tending of her mother, when she was not with Windrunner, and witnessed her slow decline. The girl vowed then, at seven years of age, that she would not follow her mother's path. She wanted to die honorably in battle, like her father, not waste away in grief and seclusion. She would become shieldmaiden, and bring honor to the House of Eorl. 


	5. A Friend Indeed

A Friend Indeed  
  
The next two years passed uneventfully, or as uneventfully as possible so near to Mordor while the Shadow rose in the East. Orcs were a constant threat, of course, but on the whole life could have been much worse. The crops were abundant and on time, so famine was not a risk. Illnesses were generally mild, Theodwyn had been the only loss to disease. Those horses that were not killed by Orcs remained healthy, foaling on schedule. Eomer and Eowyn were taken into Theoden's household, to be raised as his own. Compared to what was coming, these were halcyon days.  
  
Eomer turned thirteen, and entered formal training for the eored of Theoden. Eowyn was wildly jealous. She would give her brother no peace until he agreed to teach her everything he learned. She proved a quick study, soon devising ways to disarm her much bigger opponent. Eomer was proud of his sister, though her skill occasionally embarrassed him. He made it a point to keep their practice sessions a secret. He did not want his friends, or worse, their cousin Theodred, to see his little sister knocking him onto his back. She did not do so every time, of course, for he had a distinct advantage in height, weight and reach, but she managed it often enough to discomfit him.  
  
Her brother did not have as much time to spare for teaching Eowyn as she would have liked, however. He had duties of his own, not only in the arts of war, but in leadership as well. She spent as much time as she could out on the plains, riding Windrunner. With the Orcs raiding at unexpected times, that was nowhere near as much as she liked. Her studies and chores took up a goodly portion of her day, but she was still left with time on her hands and little to fill it with. Eowyn took to spending part of each day watching the shieldmaidens train.  
  
She was hardly the only girl to do so. There were six or seven others who also spent much of their free time observing the shieldmaidens. Most of them kept their distance, for Eowyn did not make herself easy to get along with. Girls her age tended to be intimidated by her, and avoid her. Being niece of the King did not help matters, either. Still, it was a pleasant thing to watch the women train with sword and staff, bow and pike. For all their skill at fighting, they had a grace and beauty that was fascinating to Eowyn.  
  
"They are very beautiful, are they not?" a voice at her shoulder asked one day. Eowyn was startled, for she had become accustomed to being on her own far too much.  
  
She looked around and saw a petite girl, with the most astonishing red hair imaginable. Red was not a common color among the Rohirrim, though it was not unknown, and this red was brighter than the sunset. The girl was smiling, her freckled nose wrinkling as she did so. She looked up at Eowyn, waiting expectantly for an answer.  
  
Abruptly Eowyn realized she was staring. She remembered her manners and replied with a simple "Yes, they are."  
  
The redhead cocked her head in an appraising manner. "Are you always this talkative?" she asked.  
  
Eowyn had no idea what to make of this girl. Though by no means did she know everyone in Edoras, she thought she was at least passingly familiar with the girls her age. Not friendly with them, for she much preferred her own company or that of Windrunner or Eomer, but enough to recognize them by sight and more often than not put a name to the face. This girl was a complete stranger.  
  
"I asked you a question," she said, bringing Eowyn out of her reverie.  
  
Eowyn had the grace to blush. "I'm sorry," she said. "You caught me by surprise. I am unused to……." She trailed off, not quite certain how to put her thought.  
  
"So I see," the redhead commented dryly. "You are seldom approached by your peers, are you not? Often alone? And when I dared to make conversation with you, I surprised you into speechlessness. Is that it?"  
  
"Yes. Er…no……..that is……." Eowyn was flustered, a feeling she was not used to by any stretch. This girl talked more like an adult than a child. It was something they had in common.  
  
Suddenly the girl laughed, a merry sound. "I should not tease you so, Lady. I have been watching you as much as I watch the shieldmaidens. As I am very new to Edoras, I thought I would make friends. I have seen how you spend your time alone. You don't much like our age mates, do you?"  
  
"No, I don't, in fact. They are very silly, most of them. I prefer the horses of the Mark. Or the adults, but they are also very silly. They don't like to take a child seriously, I have discovered. Except for Theodred. And Uncle Theoden. They take me seriously indeed," Eowyn replied gravely.  
  
"Uncle Theoden? If the King is your uncle, then you must be Eowyn. I know of no other niece of his our age," the girl observed.  
  
"I am Eowyn. You have me at a disadvantage, however."  
  
The redhead laughed again. "The Lady Eowyn at a disadvantage? I am not certain I should give up such power too quickly! For I understand that is a rare thing indeed," she teased.  
  
Eowyn simply scowled. "If you're going to be rude….." she began.  
  
"Lady, I meant no offence, I promise! I am only teasing you, to be friendly. It is a very bad habit of mine. I am Brynn," the girl interrupted. "I am lately of Eastfold. My mother moved us here after my father was killed by Orcs. We have been in Edoras mere weeks."  
  
Eowyn softened at that information. The other girls she knew who had lost parents to the Orcs never wanted to talk about it. They avoided her, but this girl was volunteering the information as a matter of course. There was something different and special about Brynn, something Eowyn wanted to get to know better. She found herself liking this girl very much. She jumped down from her perch.  
  
"If you are new to Edoras, there is much you do not know. Would you like me to show you some of it?" she offered, smiling.  
  
Brynn smiled in return. "That would be most welcome, so long as we can get something to eat while you give me the Grand Tour. Watching the shieldmaidens practice is hungry work!"  
  
Now it was Eowyn's turn to laugh. "That it is. Fortunately, I know all the best places to get treats here. I suggest we make for the kitchens, and then I will show you some of the other interesting sights Edoras has to offer."  
  
Brynn eagerly accepted the offer. The two girls walked away, chatting merrily about everything and nothing. They discovered many common interests besides shieldmaidens and a distaste for girls their own age. The lore-keepers would do well to run and hide, as Eowyn now had a partner in her fixation on elves and holbytlan. A fast friendship was born. 


End file.
